Worry Seed
by Epoxy-Resin
Summary: After being discovered, Morse is forced to confess a dear-hold secret. And once the seed of worry is planted, the tree just grows into a pearshaped problem. Rated T for the occasional curse and Endeavour being... (read it :p) Written with prompt from #Endeavourprompts! Disclaimer:I do not own Endeavour. Amazing cover art by Bilou020285! Reviews are more than welcome! (please!)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I'm pretty new to writing and this is actually my first fanfiction. I know that the Endeavour fandom isn't to big (or at least not on Fanfiction, I think) but please read and review. I could use some tips or something, just in case I made anything sound to awkward! ****  
~ Please enjoy ~******

"Morse, will you please stop looking at passing guys and focus?" Strange sighed annoyed, looking at the DC who seemed rather amused as he saw someone pass. "I'm sitting _here_."  
"I can see that." Morse said dryly, turning his attention back to the DC. " Besides, I've answered your question already. And I wasn't looking at guys passing by."  
"Oh, come one, you've been looking at him for as long as I've had this book in my hands." Strange slammed the book shut and stood up. "But if you're more interested in watching instead of trying your best for your Sergeants' exam, that be my guest. But do it in your own time."  
"What did I do wrong this time?" Morse asked, looking a bit annoyed.  
"Nothing." The PC sighed, sat down and opened the book again.

"Is there something wrong? It's not like you to be so…"  
"What?" Strange looked up.  
"Mm… Stressed, I suppose…" Morse shrugged.  
"Am I now?" The PC laid the book on the table. "Maybe I'm a bit tired…"  
"We… could stop now, if…" the DC looked unsure.  
"Am I allowed to be worried about the fact that you just waved at the guy you've been staring at?" Strange asked annoyed.  
"I already told you that I wasn't staring at him and-"  
"Stop it, Morse. I don't want to hear it." Strange stood up and left.  
Morse was looking rather dumbfounded as his gaze followed the PC outside. He then shrugged and went to the guy he had waved at a few seconds earlier.

"What is it?" the man asked gruffly. Morse did not know whatever Strange had been thinking but he surely hoped that the PC didn't think he was attracted to _this_ kind of man.  
"You might want cover your backside next time you stand up. There's a rather noticeable rip in your pants…"  
"OH! Oh… Thanks." The man, to his credit, blushed and ducked his head.  
"Don't mention it." Morse managed a small smile and went on his way. The laughter of the man's friend could still be heard when the DC left the pub.

The next day, Morse tried to talk to Strange about the previous evening but it seemed like the PC had better avoiding skills then the DC had initially thought. It wasn't until later in the day, when it was much calmer in the office, that way Strange had no excuses to run away from him. Because after a whole day of searching, Morse was certain that he was deliberately outrunning him.  
"What is going on, Strange?" he demanded, when he managed to grab the PC's arm  
"Let go of me, Morse."  
"I will as long as you tell me what's wrong… Why are you avoiding me?" the DC asked, gripping the PC's arm a bit tighter as he was trying to escape from his hold.  
"Why don't you go ask that bloke in the pub, then?" Strange responded, still struggling.  
"So you really did think I liked him…" Morse sighed deeply. "You believe it that much that you don't even want me touching you…" he added sadly, letting go of the PC.  
"If you're not a poof then why were you staring at that guy in the pub?" Strange demanded, getting a bit uncomfortable.  
"Were you temporarily blinded? He had a hole in the back of his pants the size of my _fist_! And his underwear was bright green!" Morse exclaimed.  
"He did?"  
"Yes. Even though I found it rather amusing, I still went and told him…" the DC said miffed. "and now that that's cleared out, I'd like to point out that you left when it was your turn to pay for drinks."  
"For once…" Strange pointed out with a small smile.  
"Now that's uncalled for. I just tend to forget once I'm busy with a case." Morse defended proudly, making the PC laugh a little.  
"Sure, matey. Whatever makes you sleep better at night."  
Morse just waved his hand dismissively as he went back to his desk.  
Strange sighed as he watched the DC start typing again, suddenly felt rather guilty of treating the DC like that. He decided that he'd leave that touchy subject alone for it seemed that Morse wasn't the type of person who took kindly to that kind of accusations.

True to his words, though, Strange noticed that the DC didn't look at other guys (and yes, he had been watching him for a couple of days now, just to be sure) but when Morse caught his stare, he did look rather nonplussed and quickly turned away. But by looking rather hard _at_ the lad, Jim Strange started noticing things, like the fact that Morse was… fair shaped and that his Adam's apple was missing. For a moment, the PC was afraid that he himself was attracted to Morse but quickly shook of that thought.

"Did you see that lass just now?" Strange asked with wide eyes.  
"Hm? Where?" Morse looked up from the Moriarty Police Law book.  
"There, behind the counter." The PC pointed.  
"Don't point, Strange, that's rude. Besides…" Morse gave a cheeky smile. "I _was_ trying to concentrate…"  
"Your timing isn't really working properly… Whoa, look at her-"  
"Strange, I can see that's she's well endowed." He interrupted, looking back at his book.  
"That's an understatement…" Strange was nearly drooling. He wasn't the only one impressed as several catcalls sounded out.  
"Go for it, Strange. There's always a chance she'll say yes…" Morse said absently.  
"You're mad, there's no way I'd manage up the courage for that." The PC scoffed.  
"Now who's the one staring."  
"The real question here is… Why aren't you?" Strange turned to Morse, who sighed and looked at him in a tired manner.  
"Maybe I'm a bit tired?"  
"Well put." Strange said, recognising the words of dismissal.

It still bothered the PC once he was home. After nearly tripping over his mother's dog, he had went to his bedroom and made a small list. Morse fascinated him, he had to admit it (and not in a creepy way) and so far he had a couple of things that made him… well, suspicious of the lad. After that little chat a few days ago, Morse made sure to tell him that he isn't gay but then today he's not interested in that woman either. One of these days, Strange was sure to unravel him but for now he tried to put his list of things that bothered him in the back of his mind. He'd have to much trouble acting normal around the DC otherwise.

**And that's it for the first chapter!**  
**Thank you for reading! Please leave a review if you like it (or disliked it… But don't be rude please).**


	2. Chapter 2

**~ Please enjoy the second chapter ~**

  
"Blasted cows…" Jakes muttered as he trudged around crime scene. "Why does it always have to be me who treads into it…"  
"It'll bring you some fortune at least." Strange smirked.  
"As if, these shoes cost me a fortune." The Sergeants answers annoyed.  
"Then don't wear them to work." The PC shrugs, it's not a if he care an awful lot about Jakes' soiled shoes, cow patty or not. At least Morse had managed to keep his clean.  
"Well, I don't want to wear other shoes. These are custom made." Jakes says uncomfortable. "'s Not as if I can help the fact that I have big feet and that all other shoes are uncomfortable…"  
"Yes, but can't you have them made with a lesser quality kind of material, instead of this?"  
"No way…" the Sergeant then cast his eyes on Morse, who is just passing. "It's not as if Morse has that problem…" he adds smirking.  
"What problem?" Morse asks, pausing in his stride.  
"Big feet." Jakes smiles.  
"Hang on, I thought we were talking about quality?" Strange asked confused.  
"I don't care much for shoes _or_ quality for that matter." Morse answers cautiously.  
"I would've thought so. You're probably still in the children department with those small-"  
"No, Jakes. I'm not." The DC interrupts.  
"You know what they says about men with big feet."  
"Yes, Jakes. I know what they says about that." Morse says as if he's talking to a small child. "But at least I don't feel the need to compensate on anything by having large feet." He adds.  
"True." Strange says. "I haven't got that large feet either, 6.5 exactly."  
"Size 9… How about you, Morse?" Jakes ask, well… smirks.  
"That's none of you-"  
"Don't be so childish, come on."  
"4." Is the brisk answer but immediately Morse trudges on towards Thursday who was waiting by the car.

"4?" Jakes asked, looking astounded. "That's tiny!"  
"You really do like embarrassing Morse, don't you?" Strange ask, not looking to pleased.  
"I didn't mean to!" the Sergeant says affronted.  
"For once." The PC turns his head to see the car leaving. "Weren't you supposed to be in the same car as Morse, by the way?"  
"What?" Jakes looks the same way in a startled manner, but looks even more annoyed after seeing they left him behind. Strange tried to keep his face straight as the Sergeant paced around, trying to get a ride.

But then, the same evening, the PC laid on his bed, thinking about Morse. Size 4 was more the size for woman's feet, wasn't it? Strange shook his head, there was no way that what he was thinking was true and even if it was… He had no evidence so he let the subject drop.

Until the PC heard a conversation down the hall.  
"Morse, please…" Jakes sighed as he passed the office where Morse was working in with a rather heavy box in his arms.  
"What is it?" the DC asked, on guard as he knew that talking to Jakes always ended up in some kind of verbal fight, making him always stand on edge around the Sergeant.  
"I don't mind you singing but keep it down a bit, will you?"  
Morse swallowed as he nodded, he hadn't even known he had been singing in the first place.  
"Where did you learn to sing like that, anyway? Did they cut of your balls as well?" Jakes asked nonchalantly, balanced the box he had been carrying on his left knee.  
"Excuse me?" Morse asked with a raised eyebrow, looking rather affronted  
"I'm not trying to annoy you, Morse." He sighed. "But there's been a bloke who's balls were… you know… He was able to sing that high as well, right?"  
"Oh." The DC deflated, trying not to sound to relieved but Strange, who was eavesdropping had. "You mean like Farinelli?"  
"Whatever."  
"N-no, Jakes. There's been no… cutting involved. It's purely a way of training and having the right person to teach." Morse answered uncomfortably. "Besides, the one you're talking about was a Soprano, while I'm a Tenor."  
"Tch, seriously? That one note was still ridiculously high pitched…" Jakes grumbles as he wanders off, leaving Morse alone, while the DC let out rather nervous laugh.  
The whole conversation suddenly does let something click in Strange's brain then he understands but at the same time he's extremely confused and decides to confront Morse with his findings.

"Why are you doing this?" Strange asks, cringing at his own tone. He didn't mean to sound so accusing in the first place.  
"Doing what exactly?" Morse seems confused. The PC sighs as he closes the door and sits down.  
"Dress like a man." Strange says simple. The reaction is immediate.  
"How did you-"  
"I'm a policeman, I may not be as smart as you, but I too can deduct some things." Strange intervenes rudely, not all too happy. He had initially wanted Morse to deny it.  
"That's uncalled for." The DC said unhappily.  
"Calling you a cross-dresser while you've been lying to us all along?"  
"You don't know anything!" Morse suddenly looks angry and upset and Strange gets this odd feeling in his stomach, suggesting that he might've acted a bit to rash.  
"I'm sorry…"  
"You should be!" Morse yells loudly, nearly in tears. "You have no right to judge me like that and I've never lied to someone in this office!"  
"Morse, please don't cry, I'm sorry…"  
"NO! Go away, please… Just go away." Morse quickly turns away from Strange, failing trying to get a hold of himself.  
"Okay…" the PC says softly. Deciding that was the best option to take, Strange did leave but then he noticed, Morse really did shout as hard as he remembered and now the whole office was staring.  
At him.  
"Err…"

Thankfully, Inspector Thursday came to Strange's rescue as he too had heard shouting.  
"Get back to work, you lot." He said, waving his hand dismissively towards the gaping people, who quickly started working again.  
"Now, _you_'re going to tell me what going on between you and Morse." And with that the Inspector trudged into his office, trailed by a less than enthusiastic PC Strange.

"So you upset Morse?" Thursday asks, not looking too happy.  
"Y-yes, sir." Strange answered meekly. He decided that he wasn't going to tell on Morse. Especially the whole cross-dressing business. Being yelled at once a day by one of your friends was more than enough, the PC thought.  
"Why?"  
"Because I thought… he was… gay…" Strange lies, thinking quickly.  
"Has he been… you know?" Thursday trails off.  
"What?! No, no, of course not!"  
"Then why'd you go and make such a fuss about it?" the Inspector asked with a raised eyebrow.  
Strange swallowed hard and shrugged, looking rather defeated yet not for the reason Thursday guessed it was. He sighed deeply and leaned back on his chair, shaking his head.  
"I'll have a chat with him about it, okay?"  
"Yes, sir." Strange nods. "But DC Morse is a bit angry at the moment…" he adds.  
"I noticed as much. I'll talk to him tomorrow. For now though, Strange, don't let your damned prejudice get in the way of your job." Thursday still looks a bit angry and the PC knows it's because of him and his damned curiosity.

"Morse?" The Inspector pokes his head around the corner.  
"What?" it seemed like the DC still wasn't over his argument with Strange if the quiver in the lad's voice was anything to go by.  
"I'd like to have a word with you… Tomorrow though, so can you pick me up in the morning?"  
"Fine." Was Morse's short answer.  
"Right." Thursday finished awkwardly and went back to his office.

Morse made himself scarce the rest of the day, not wanting to upset anyone (especially himself) any more. Not taking any risks, he went home a bit earlier than usual as well.  
It's not the first time that someone discovers his 'secret' but he's unsettled and truly worried that he would have to search for another job, having to start all over… again.

The poor DC drinks himself silly, trying to forget but he can't instead, he falls unconscious in an uneasy kind of sleep.

**Next up is nr. 3!  
Read and review, please **


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter, already!  
~ Please enjoy ~  
**  
_It was a cold and grey winter's day, with dreary looking clouds hanging heavily above the house, boding nothing else but rain. The girl sighs deeply as she leans on the windowsill.  
At least her dress would make this grey day look a bit better, she decided. It was a nice but simple yellow one, which she had good memories of. She remembered when she had been given it, instantly whishing her mommy was here as well._

_"Have you gone even more stupid?" a voice calls out, as soon as the girl gets down the stairs.  
"Daddy?" she asks confused.  
"Don't 'daddy' me, have you forgotten what I told you?" he bellows.  
"But I-'"  
"Get out of my sight, wench! How dare you face my with that dress! How many times have I told you already to not wear them!?" her father does not look happy and so the girl nods sadly, retracing her steps, back into the room._

_She cries while she changes. She likes that yellow dress but she's growing a lot these days and fears she'll not be able to fit in it much longer. Yesterday was her ninth birthday but no one really cared, not that she was expecting anything…  
The girl sighs and starts dressing in pants and a simple shirt, making sure that her arms and legs are covered. More than often she'd wake up in her bed, hurting all over and bruises all over, not remembering how she even got them. But the kids in her street, who go to the same school as well, laugh and make fun of her. They tell her that she's stupid and clumsy, that her mother left because she was such a useless runt. She doesn't like those kids and often stays clear from them, making the teachers look after her but she tells them that they don't have to bother with her. It only makes them more worried so she stays quiet._

_She sits down in one of the many rooms of the house, her favourite namely the one in the attic here no one else comes by. The girl remembers the day that her teacher had called her out and introduced her to a lady, though she knew she was a social worker. It wasn't because the others called her stupid, that she actually was…  
But the likeable lady had then met her father and he literally threw her out, swearing all the way. When she met the social worker the next day, she told her that she was lucky not to have met her stepmother. The lady had smiled sadly and then she never saw her again._

_Then suddenly there's a loud thump in the hallway downstairs and crying. The girl jumps up and goes downstairs, seeing her half-sister laying on the floor, tears running down her face.  
"It's okay, sis." She says smiling, helping her back on her feet. Her sister smiled through her tears but then the girl is pushed away by her stepmother, who suddenly appeared on the hallway as well.  
"My little baby, did she push you?" she cooed sweetly. The other girl was still too form any sentence which made sense but her face conveyed that she was misunderstood. The woman however quickly move her daughter into her bedroom._

_The girl gave another deep sigh and picked herself up from the floor. She'd never understand why the woman didn't like her and treated her like dirt. But all thoughts of that were abandoned as she was grabbed from behind and roughly pulled upwards with her shirt.  
"Where do you think you're going?" it was her stepmother, not sounding to loveable.  
The girl was struggling to breath so she didn't answer.  
"Staying silent, huh?" the woman threw her in a room, stalking into it as well, closing the door. "Thinking you could hurt my daughter?" she kicked the girl, who was still on the floor, now gasping for air.  
"How dare you! You filth! I should've kicked you out the moment I laid eyes on you!" the woman screeched, kicking the girl continuously, not caring how much she was hurting her. But then the father came in the room.  
"Calm yourself, woman!" he called out, pulling her back so that she wouldn't cause any more hurt.  
"She tried to hurt my daughter!" her stepmother cried out.  
"I'm sure that's not what happened, Gwen. My girl is not strong enough to hurt Joyce after all…" he sighed, guiding her out of the room._

_After a while, the girl managed to sit upright but her chest was hurting a lot. Then her father came back inside.  
"Are you okay? Can you stand?" he asks, sounding more honest than she's heard him these last days. She grasps his outstretched hand and…_

"Morse!"  
The DC's head snapped up, now no longer focussing on his daydream, seeing a rather annoyed Sergeant Jakes standing next to him.  
"Finally…" he sighs, waving the papers in his hand in front of Morse's face. "I've got something for you to spend the rest of the day with…" Jakes adds grinning.  
'Oh, yes…' Morse groans inwardly, just what he needed. A couple of files to type out and of course, with his abysmal typing skills it would certainly take the whole day. It was one of Jakes' favourite jokes these days.  
Sighing, the DC rolled another paper into his typewriter. His mind was elsewhere though… He didn't get to much sleep, as he had been worrying quite a bit about the 'chat' Thursday wanted to have, which only resulted in dreams of experiences Morse wanted to forget. But when he went to get the Inspector, he was already in the office due to a severe accident that had taken place. Of which Morse was now typing out the statements of the eyewitnesses… He'd talk to him later, the DI had said but somehow that gave the DC a rather uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Morse didn't see the Inspector again that day and was nervous to go to the pub with Strange. Said PC did look very apologetic but Morse still wanted stay crabby around him for a while, not wanting to forgive him that easily. Strange relented and went home, as did the DC. 

_The little girl is lying in bed, not feeling too well. She'd been off to school but had to go home as she didn't feel so well. Her stepmother hadn't been too happy, claiming she didn't want to see that face any longer then she should. The girl had gone to bed on her own and stayed there.  
Until the woman came into her room and carried her off, making sure she wouldn't be able to make a sound as she had put a gag in her mouth.  
"Mmm!" the girl cried out, shifting uncomfortable.  
"A-a-a, don't make me mad no, girl." Her stepmother grinned. "Daddy's not going to be pleased to see you home so I'm doing you a favour!"  
She dumped the girl in a hole she had dug earlier.  
"You can breathe through this…" the woman said, handing the girl a small straw.  
She then started shovelling, closing the hole with an evil smile on her face, ignoring the terrified and struggling girl at the bottom._

Morse shot up from his bed, sweating and trembling. He looked at the clock next to him on a side table and cursed. '2 a.m.' it said, which was too early to get out of bed, even for Morse's standards. That meant he'd have to go to sleep again… He did go to the kitchen for something to drink, though.

Morse remembered what happened after he was… buried. He had fainted due to lack of air but the next thing he remembered seeing was his father's very worried face. It was then that the man had decided to keep an eye on his wife. Not that it matter an awful lot, 'cause there were plenty moments where he wasn't at home, letting young Morse fall victim to the cruelty of his stepmother.  
Sighing, he crawled back into bed, hoping he'd get a dreamless rest for now._  
_

**~ Read and review, please ~**


	4. Chapter 4

**~ Already Chapter 4 **** ! Enjoy ~**

By the time Morse woke up the next morning, he thought he was cursed. Normally he'd sleep like a brick (maybe that was because of his drinking) and never remember his dreams but now…  
Sighing he got ready for another day, hoping that Thursday would finally find the time to put him out of his misery.  
He did.

"Ah, Morse. Good morning!" Thursday smiled. Morse tried to act happy as well but he only managed a grimace.  
"You're not looking all too well, lad…" the Inspector asked worried. "Is something the matter?... It better not have anything to do with what Strange told me…"  
Morse's head turned towards the DI in a flash.  
"W-what did he tell you?" he asked worried.  
"This is not a conversation to have in a car in front of my house now, is it?" Thursday smiled but Morse was mortified.  
"What do you mean?"  
"Alright… So we _are_ going to have this conversation here…" the DI sighs tiredly. "For the record, Morse, I do not care what your love interest is, as long as you don't perform those shenanigans at work, okay?"  
"Excuse me?" Morse asked, looking affronted. "Shenanigans?"  
Thursday gave him a long hard look.  
"So Strange is completely wrong?"  
"Yes… Or he gave you wrong information. I've already told him that I'm not gay." Morse answered annoyed. "Even though he severely overreacted when he thought that…"  
"That was my idea as well… But then what was that yelling about?" the Inspector asked.  
"I'm…" Morse took a deep breath. "I'm… having some trouble… voicing the problem, sir…"  
"Well, take your time. I'm comfortable."  
"I'm not…" the DC muttered.

After a short silence, Thursday sighed and leaned on the dashboard, facing Morse.  
"We could always go inside if you're not comfortable?" he tried but the DC shook his head.  
"No… No, that's not what I meant… Just…" Morse looked at him pleadingly. "Promise me that you won't force me to quite."  
Thursday was taken aback and on full attention right now.  
"Of course not, I can't imagine that your 'problem' will affect your performance at work, will it?"  
"If it's up to me, then no, it won't…"  
"Good, then I won't either." The Inspector said. "I _promise_." He added, seeing the look Morse was giving him.  
"Fine… Where do I start…"  
"Why was Strange upset?" Thursday urged.  
"Because I'm not… who he thought I was…" Morse said softly. "I'm female…"

Another silence but now Thursday is gaping at the young lad… err, lass in front of him. He notices that Morse is becoming very uncomfortable now.  
"How?" he asks breathless.  
"Err… operations a-and… hormonal therapy…" Morse ducks his head down, looking embarrassed.  
"W-well… I would've never, ever guessed." Thursday exclaims.  
"Well, that was the plan."  
"How on earth did Strange… Never mind, I don't want to know that." Thursday shakes his head. "But why did you want to become a man, Morse? Not that you don't pull it off but…"  
"It's got nothing to do with sexuality, sir. Absolutely not…" the DC shivers though. "I just can't stand being female… if that makes any sense?"  
"Not really…" the DI deadpans.  
"It… I'll need to tell you the whole story for you to understand… And please don't get angry…"  
"Of course not." Thursday says, but he knows that he found the reason for having that _urge_ to protect the lad and he's sure that that'll never chance.  
"O-okay…" Morse draws a shaky breath.

"It probably started by the time that I was 8… My mother left, or at least that's what I thought then that she did and my father was… rather effected by it." Morse paused. "He always said that he didn't want to see me in a dress as it reminded him to much of her…"  
"You must've looked a lot like her then?" Thursday asks softly.  
"Yes…" he nods. "But he didn't like that… So I didn't wear any of those typical girly things…"  
"Still…" The Inspector shrugs. "Joan never did either…"  
"Yes but…" Morse sighs. "It's not like I had a choice. If I wanted my father to be happy and like me, I couldn't wear them… So the choice was easy…"  
"I see…"  
"But then my stepmother… Oh, she loathed me and not because I looked like my mother. She hasn't ever seen a picture of her anyhow…"  
"What do you mean loathed?" Thursday asks worried.  
"She… she mostly ignored me but well… that social worker who came by, I was about 15 or so… He called it… err… abuse..." Morse admits, not that he's proud of it.  
"That lousy-!" Thursday bristles angrily.  
"Please don't get angry, sir. You promised." Morse intervenes.  
"Right, I did. Still…"

There another silence in the car now, but its more comfortable.  
"It's really like a bad joke isn't it? My bagman, who isn't my bagman isn't even a man either! I mean…" Thursday shakes his head, but Morse looks rather unhappy with the lame joke. "I'm sorry."  
"No need, it's true…" the DC says sadly. "I was angry at Strange for calling me a liar but I am…"  
"No, for what I gather from your story, I can easily see that you're not at fault."  
"It still makes me want to cry, though."  
"One day, I want you to tell me what that woman did to you. Is that a deal?" the Inspector asks.  
"Okay…" Morse shrugs.

"Didn't DeBryn notice anything?" The DI suddenly wonders.  
"Why would he?"  
"He patched you up when that crazy bloke Cronyn… err… Gull stabbed you?"  
"Doctor DeBryn can patched whatever he likes but I won't show anything that I wouldn't want to show." Morse huffs, automatically moving his hand to the place where he was stabbed earlier.

"Do you want the others to know as well?" Thursday asks, already deducting a negative answer if Morse's reaction to DeBryn was anything to go by.  
"Oh, Lord forbid if Jakes ever caught wind of this…" Morse's pained look is justified though, as the DI knows that the Sergeant is out to make as much fun of the DC as possible.  
"I'll make sure he won't…"  
"Funny that… Susan said the same thing…" Morse says breathless, looking outside the window, away from Thursday.  
"Susan?" he questions.  
"A girl… From college…" the DC sighs. "She thought she'd be able to change my mind about female bodies…"  
"I take it didn't work?"  
"God's no… I don't do well with seeing nude, sir. Especially girls…" Morse looks down again in embarrassment. "I nearly threw up when I saw her naked. She didn't take it too well…"  
Thursday winced as he could imagine the rage of a prideful girl.  
"After that scandal, I went in the army. At least me leaving the signal corps had nothing to do with my…" Morse trailed off.  
"Well, you're not leaving now either." Thursday said, ignoring Morse's trouble to name his own problem. "Not if I can help it. Come on, let's get back to the nick. I'm going to have a chat with someone… That is, if you're up for it?"  
"Sure." The DC shrugged. "You're not the first to find out, sir."  
"Hm."  
"First to react positively, though…" Morse said as Thursday started the car, a small smile finding its way on the Inspector's face.

Thursday kept word and Strange was more than a bit prepared to help Morse in case he would encounter a problem. He made sure to apologise multiple times, until the DC begged him to stop. Morse easily forgave Strange as he found that the man was a far better friend than what he had initially expected and he would be a fool to let that friendship go to waste.

But somehow Jakes and a few other had their suspicion raised as well but with Morse being, well… Morse, he didn't let anything escape. Not even the smallest girly peep. Strange had been another matter as the DC had been comfortable around him (Morse had admitted as much and it had made the PC rather happy), so much so that he had forgotten about keeping his secret. But now, after that whole debacle, he'd be sure to keep a lid on it.  
A few times Jakes would approach Morse with a saying like: Hi, lass, how are you today. It made Strange's hair stand on end like a cat and tense up, ready to defend him. But then again, most of the time the DC wasn't even listening, even when one would call him with his first name, it would take a while for Morse to listen. So with that dull kind of response, even the Sergeant quickly dropped the subject for it to be forgotten.

Thursday however was brooding and it wasn't positive. At least not for Morse's stepmother… She was guilty of abusing Morse which left such a big trauma that the lass became phobic to her own body and became the lad that he knew today.  
Okay, Morse had defended the woman (why, Thursday still couldn't phantom) by saying she had some kind of depression that made her act so. But what kind of woman would lock up a kid in a closer for hours? Or bury them alive? Kick them until they become unable to even walk?

So far, he hadn't had any success trying to urge the DC as Morse didn't want to reopen the old wounds anymore than it already had. He had had already had a lot of nightmares about the whole business and was losing a lot of sleep because of it. Thursday was no stranger in the tiny apartment anymore (he often invited himself these days) and more than once Morse had become physically ill while talking about what his stepmother had done to him. It worried the Inspector to no end and went to all lengths to make sure that _no one_ would ever find out.  
If he ever would get that woman in his sight well… That woman better pray that he'd never be able to convince Morse to testify against her.

**~ The End! Read and review, please! ~**

**For those interested, this story is placed after Season one, episode two: Fugue. (As mentioned by Thursday in the last part of this story, Morse had been stabbed by Mason Gull, a few days ago)**


End file.
